


I'll Be Your Shelter

by tisfan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, POV Tony Stark, Worry, date thoughts, except there isn't any sex, just implied, never have sex until the third date, third date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 17:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12325719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Tony worries about his third date with Steve Rogers...Turns out, there's nothing to worry about.





	I'll Be Your Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> Short prompt fill for Cap_IronMan Bingo  
> (also, BINGO, I filled a column)

Coffee was an inspired idea for a first date.

First off, coffee. So, like duh!

Secondly, getting a cup of coffee could take 10 minutes, it could take half an hour, and certainly if expectations were exceeded, it could take most of the afternoon. There was pretty much no way that Tony could possibly date anyone who would object to spending a few hours at a coffee shop. Really, that was just not going to be possible.

And that had worked out reasonably well. He and Steve had gotten along pretty well. There was some chemistry going on, a little. (Okay, so Tony had about dropped his coffee when he got a look at his date. Holy hell, what good deed had he done in some previous life to deserve that?)

The first date was about making sure the other person wasn’t utterly abhorrent, so success there! But Tony hadn’t learned much, except that Steve preferred his coffee with sugar, but no milk, thought frappacinos sounded like something you should take an antibiotic for (Tony had about spit his coffee out when Steve said that) and that he had the fashion sense of a mushroom. Oh, and that he liked to run early in the morning. And he was stupidly good looking. And witty.

Steve had asked for, and planned, the second date.

Two was, statistically speaking, better than one. The second date, also standard issue… getting to know you dinner and a show.

Maybe they didn’t have a lot in common; Tony had taken note of the faint sneer when he listed off some heavy metal bands as favorites and his eyebrows had taken the scenic tour of his forehead when Steve’s favorite were all 1940s Big Band. And the temperature difference might cause some problems, down the road. Tony was sweating under his sport jacket, while Steve had pulled on a sweater halfway through the jazz concert.

It annoyed Tony that everyone thought jazz was a thing that people had to do in order to seem adult and sophisticated. He might not have been so disgruntled about it, except he happened to look over -- he was bored, all right? -- and saw Steve texting someone, complaining that he didn’t like jazz. Honestly, he wished more people would just like what they liked. Fucking own it!

Of course, even if the dates went well, it didn’t mean they’d end up living together and arguing about where the thermostat was set and what music they were going to listen to at dinner. That was putting the cart so far in front of the horse that it might run into the poor horse’s ass from the other side.

And that’s what Tony was; a horse’s ass, planning marriage and kids and a life together with a man he’d gone on precisely _two_ dates with.

There was something there. Some zing. An _interest_. Had to be mutual. Sometimes people went on a second, pity date. But Tony asked for a third, and Steve had said yes fast enough that his words were in danger of getting a speeding ticket, so… something, right?

Or, so Tony was trying to convince himself as he held up outfit under outfit, trying to find just the right look to say, “Hey, you’re hot, and I’d like to bang you through the floor, and also raise babies with you” and at the same time not come across too desperate.

But that first kiss, after the show was over, that was worth putting up with some boring music, and maybe a little more effort to see if he could unearth the real Steve, instead of the “I’m trying to be cool” image that Steve was projecting. That first kiss was…

_It was sometimes annoying to be a short man -- Tony could never lean in for a kiss and look casual about it. He always had to put extra effort. Especially with someone like Steve, who was 6’1” or so. And broad shouldered, which was nice, but at the same time, there was five inches of space between Tony’s mouth and Steve’s, which meant even bouncing up on his toes wasn’t going to cut it, if Steve didn’t come to the assist._

_So, if this didn’t go well, Tony was going to look like an idiot and he was going to have to think of a way to politely cancel a third date that he’d asked for, and…_

_Steve leaned in and pressed his mouth to Tony’s. His lips were cool, firm, and smooth. Tony could feel the solid square of his teeth behind those closed lips and for just an instant, he thought Steve was going to pull back, having done the thing proper enough. Steve did seem like an old-fashioned type of guy, and maybe Tony should have waited until it was his date idea to go for the kiss, and maybe Steve was thinking Tony was a little fast, or something, and--_

_Oh, god._

_Steve opened his mouth and then took possession of Tony’s with a subtle heat that took Tony’s breath away. His tongue slid inside, rubbed velvet slick against Tony’s teeth, along the inside of his cheek, licked at the roof of his mouth, and suddenly Tony’s hands were linked around Steve’s neck, holding on for dear life as Steve took Tony apart with his lips and tongue and the soft sounds of his breathing._

_When they finally broke apart, Steve rested his forehead against Tony’s and said, soft and deep and dark, “I’ll see you on Friday, yeah?”_

_“Can’t wait.”_

Tony checked his look, patted a few stray locks of hair into place and grabbed his sunglasses. Ready, steady.

Phone in his pocket, wallet, keys… great.

Drove out to pick up his date.

“So, what’s the plan?” Steve asked as he climbed into Tony’s car.

“Well, I have a backup plan if you don’t want to--” Tony hemmed a little bit, and Steve leaned in, kissed Tony’s mouth as if to make him stop babbling like an idiot, because that’s exactly what he was doing, and damn, Steve was going to have to rethink his tactics because if his idea of getting Tony’s brain to work included kissing him, pressed up against the door of his car until he could barely breathe, then Tony’s brain was going to be offline more often than not.

“I’m sure I’ll have fun,” Steve said, sitting back and buckling his seatbelt as if gravity on the planet had not just flipped around.

“Okay,” Tony said. He licked his lips, tasting Steve still on them. “Okay. So, uh… I have this friend, and she works for a rehoming shelter, and she needs some help, and I thought… if you know, you’re okay with it, we could take a few shelter dogs for a walk, cuddle some kittens, and then grab a cheeseburger and malt?”

Steve beamed at him, brilliant, blinding and wide. “That sounds like a great idea, Tony. I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”

***

Much, _much_ later, when Tony was just getting ready to suggest that they move from the bed into the shower and get cleaned up before sleeping, Steve leaned up on one elbow and smiled. He traced a finger down the line of Tony’s face and ended at his lip. Tony ducked his chin and kissed the pads of Steve’s fingers.

Successful date, Tony was thinking, and then Steve said, “So, out of curiosity, what was your backup plan?”

Tony blinked, then, “Oh, art museum. You said you liked art, I was thinking--”

“Yeah,” Steve said, kissing Tony into stillness again. “Yeah, I like that idea. Let’s do that, for a fourth date.”

 


End file.
